Cappuccino
by Lettuce
Summary: Hermione Granger has a chance meeting as she grabs her morning coffee


_A/N: I know I should be writing What I Desire, but this little one shot wouldn't get out of my head. I just couldn't move on without getting it out of my system._

 _I make nothing from this and all character credits goes to the great JKR... I just get to play._

It isn't unusual for me to stop and grab a coffee – usually a cappuccino – in the morning on my way to work. I am not really one for routines, _per se_ , but a frothy coffee one or two mornings a week, is one of my little indulgences. It is no different than the occasional custard cream with my afternoon cup of tea.

This morning was just another cappuccino morning, or so I thought. I was holding the door open on my way out of the little coffee shop around the corner from my office, coffee in hand, when I noticed the other customers glancing, some staring, in the direction of rather distinctive silhouette. I looked again, lest my eyes had been deceiving me. There he was, Severus Snape, of all people sitting outside of the coffee shop at a little round table.

Things have changed in the seven years since I left Hogwarts; I work at St Mungos now, a quill pusher in research and development. Truthfully, it isn't where I saw myself, but I am happy there and I do seem to have forged myself a career.

My personal life is not quite so accomplished. Ronald and I had moved in together after the war; one of the worst mistakes of my life, not that I blame him at all. We were friends, the best of friends; unfortunately, the added romance was an ingredient too many in our lives. We tried, we really did, but we had so little in common - I suppose some things are just doomed to fail.

Ron moved out of my little London flat as soon as he had completed his auror training, which was fine. In the months that followed we tentatively worked on restoring our friendship, which I am pleased to say in now stronger than ever. Ron married a girl who worked at the Ministry, called Sarah, now they have a daughter and one on the way.

I have had a few other less serious relationships over the last few years, but I just haven't found anyone who excites me. Not in the sexual sense you understand, but intellectually. I'll admit that I crave intellectual stimulation.

Seeing _him_ this morning, sitting at that table, espresso in hand, I paused. I yearned to approach, but what would I say that wouldn't sound insipid? Severus Snape didn't suffer fools; particularly, a bushy haired fool, who, quite honestly, should have listened more in her potions lessons instead of working so hard to impress her knowledge upon the rest of the classroom. It was no wonder he thought of me as insufferable.

Oh, but I was lured towards him like a moth to a flame, how could I not be? This wizard was an enigma. I knew he valued his privacy - as we all do – particularly, in the year that followed the end of the war. Rita Skeeter hounded him for his 'story', and in lieu of his official account decided to publish all sorts of strange falsehoods in order to construct something, which she thought would sell newspapers. Despite her venom, surprisingly, he didn't retaliate. He once told me that to do so would lack 'dignity' and I understood.

It came as no surprise to me to see that he was immaculately dressed in black robes with a deep red waistcoat – the colour of a fine merlot. As ever, his hair hung limply around his face though his somewhat pale skin was not as sallow as it had been in my youth.

He seemed to be ignoring the whispers and mutterings which floated in the air. I felt myself take three or four steps in his direction, not knowing if I were doing the right thing. I didn't have a chance to second guess my decision; our eyes met as he glanced over his periodical, offering the merest hint of acknowledgement of my approach.

"I know you're probably enjoying a little quiet time, but I just noticed you here on my way out and I just couldn't leave without saying hello." He wasn't immediately forthcoming with a reply, which I thought was positive. I had no doubt that he would tell me to bugger off should he find my person completely onerous. "I expect you get approached all the time when you're out and about..." I tried to think of something, _anything_ , meaningful to say. "I don't wish to be a pain or to pester you."

He set down the magazine upon the table and looked directly in to my eyes. There has never been any doubt that he knows full well how intimidating he can be with just a look. I almost lost my courage, but couldn't help but be mesmerised. In that moment it struck me how hauntingly beautiful his dark eyes were – I know that sounds insipid – but really, it is the only way I would have described them. There was also a trace of mirth in his look, as if my words had amused him.

I heard myself audibly swallow and felt my heart pounding from within my chest. The realisation that there was some attraction on my part had sent me in a panic. Outwardly I was calm, internally I was confused. I had know this man for most of my life, how could I come to this realisation now? How could a very short – distinctly one-sided - conversation have me feeling so unsettled.

"Miss... Granger." My name seemed to be forced out of his mouth yet he finally acknowledged me, to my relief.

"I was... er, just grabbing a cappuccino," I replied, holding up my cup as if to reinforce my statement.

"So I see."

"I don't wish to be a pain." I took a mouthful of scolding hot coffee in an effort to stop repeating myself like a complete moron.

"So you said." The raised eyebrow with accompanied his reply made it obvious that he knew I had just burnt the inside of my mouth.

I glanced around and was made acutely aware that we were being watched. "May I join you?" It was a bold question considering he hadn't been exactly forthcoming, but I rather felt like a goldfish in a bowl, as if the other patrons were waiting for a scene as he sent me on my way. I had no desire to walk away when I had gotten this far. I am nothing if not persistent and I am sure he thought I was a behaving true to my house.

"You may."

I pulled the wicker chair out from underneath the table and noted the hideous chintz fabric of the cushion. "Do you come here often?" I inwardly cringed, before wishing the ground would open and swallow me up.

He raised an enquiring eyebrow, his continuing amusement at my expense was obvious. "This is my first time, in fact. I have an appointment at St Mungos this morning."

"Oh, nothing serious I hope?" I knew of his lengthy recovering following Nagini's bite and hoped he wasn't still suffering complications.

"I am visiting in a professional capacity," he pointed down at his periodical. "I am meeting with board."

"Oh," I glanced down and noticed he had been reading a quarterly potions journal.

"You are still employed at the hospital?" he enquired.

Grateful that he was prepared to drive some of the conversation I babbled on about the department, my job and my colleagues.

"It sounds rather tedious, if you forgive my saying so."

I laughed. "Well, it isn't as exciting as some careers, but I do enjoy it and have a good chance of being made deputy head once Reginald retires next year."

"As long as you are fulfilled."

I was surprised by his reply. It hadn't occurred to me that he was have an opinion on my career, but then he had just given a hint that, perhaps, he did have one.

"What about you?" I asked, boldly.

"My own business," he replied, before explaining that he had grown tired of working for others and had started manufacturing his own line of potions earlier last year. I was somewhat surprised that I hadn't read about it in the newspaper, but then, as I have said, he is an intensely private man.

It was as he about to show me something in the periodical he had been reading that we were interrupted.

"Mr Snape, I thought it was you." A tall brown haired witch wearing perfectly tailored deep red robes had approached the table and began to introduce herself. "I'm not sure if you remember me? Gryffindor, I took N.E.W.T level potions in 1994."

"Yes, I do recall," Snape replied, curtly. "Can I help you at all?"

"Can I get you another coffee?" she asked, completely ignoring my existence.

If I were being unkind, I would say that her posture and tone were decidedly suggestive and the way she licked her lips was more than forward. I have to admit that a pang of possessiveness, which I had no right to feel, ran through me at that moment.

"Do you often approach strangers and ask if you can buy their coffee?" The glare which followed was one I remember well from my school days.

"Well, no, not really."

"Well then I suggest you do not begin now, Miss Webb." He was cutting in his tone.

"I, er..."

She never finished what she had been about to say as Snape cut her off and turned back to me, opened the periodical and began to show me the article he had been explaining before we had been interrupted. I can't say I would have liked to have been on the receiving end of his ire, but I'll admit to feeling a warm glow in my chest that I was asked to sit and make conversation whilst another (in my mind) more attractive witch, was turned away.

As we idly talked about this and that – his potions, my less than exciting career, the state of the Ministry – I was rather disappointed when he pulled out his pocket watch and indicated that he had to leave if he were to be on time for his appointment.

"Well, it was lovely to speak to you," I said as I stood and threw my bag over my shoulder.

Snape was placing his periodical in the side pocket of his dark brown leather briefcase. "Was it?" he asked.

I took a moment, frankly surprised that he would asked me such a thing directly. "Yes, of course. I very much enjoyed our conversation this morning."

He looked at me considerately for a few moments and I felt heat rise to my cheeks, unbidden.

We walked the short distance around the corner to the hospital in comfortable silence. I stopped at the door to my office, which was separate from the main hospital entrance.

"This is me," I announced. "It was lovely to speak with you."

"So you said." He actually cracked a smile.

I couldn't help but laugh at my own ineptitude; the blush I had tried so hard to stifle once again on display. "I did, didn't I?"

"Good day, Miss Granger," he nodded before moving to walk away down the path. He took a few steps before he stopped and I was glad I hadn't rushed through the door as he turned back and approached me, purposefully. "Would you consider having dinner with me tonight?" He asked abruptly without preamble.

At that moment I understood what it meant to be 'dumbstruck'. I actually couldn't think of anything vaguely coherent to say which wouldn't have come out in a babble of ridiculous nonsense. I was almost tempted to look behind me to see if he were speaking to someone else; not that I was lacking in self-esteem, but this was Severus Snape... I just didn't think that he would consider me in such a way.

"Miss Granger?" he queried, earnestly. "Have I misinterpreted your interest?"

My _interest? My_ interest! Had he been talking to me over coffee completely aware that of my sudden attraction? I shook my head mutely – what else could I do?

"Well?" He continued to look directly into my eyes.

I took a deep breath and did my best to gather my wits about me. "Dinner would be... lovely." I replied, managing to smile.

I thought I saw – though I could have imagined – a look of relief cross his face. "Of course it would," he teased. "Shall I collect you at seven?"

FIN

 _Edit : Just tidied up a few typing errors._


End file.
